


Eternal Flame

by quartetship



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, But still fluffy..., Death, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:17:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartetship/pseuds/quartetship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[They become friends, and Jean watches him grow up. And he grows attached...]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eternal Flame

**Author's Note:**

  * For [supportingcharacters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supportingcharacters/gifts).



> This is [based on artwork](http://thechosenchu.tumblr.com/post/100796980035/jeanmarco-week-day-3-candlelight-yeahhh-i) by [thechosenchu](http://tmblr.co/mrAKt2jBbSIX1YYU_0V04hQ), which I highly recommend you go take a look at! Thanks for permission to write this, love!
> 
> \--

Jean is seventeen when he dies.   
  
Alone in the attic of his family's massive home - just out of sight of his mother - he slips and falls from a height he hadn't bothered to worry about, and slips  _away_  before he knows what's happening. But he doesn't  _go_  anywhere.

Everything around him is a haze for a while, from the waning light of day filtering through the attic window to the sound of his mother's wailing when she finds him. He does not hear her properly, and by the time everything is clear, his vision sharpens and his hearing is perfect, but his voice is only in his own head. No one can hear him. No one explains. No one comforts.   
  
For many nights - despite a house full of bereft family - he is alone.  
  
\--  
  
Jean is eighteen when his family leaves, or rather, he  _would_  have been. Instead, he is seventeen forever, watching his mother weep until she nearly loses her mind, and watching his father pack them up and insist that they never return to the house. Jean can't go with them. The night they leave, his father blows out the candle perched by the door, and the house goes dark, Jean still standing inside.   
  
The house sits empty for three years, save for the lonely spirit of a young man, wandering the darkened halls of his childhood home. When a family finally moves in one autumn, Jean does his best to frighten them away, raising his voice at every hour of the night. But they do not hear him, and try as he might, his hands slip straight through everything he touches - even the people invading his home. So he resolves to avoid them, and isolates himself to the attic room where his life ended.   
  
He hears them talking, laughing, even singing - the cries of a baby that grow into the babbling of a child - and it makes him feel less alone. They don't know that he exists, but he likes to think that one day they might, and that he might hear his name spoken aloud again. Occasionally they visit the attic, to drag something seldom used down the stairs, and they bring with them a candle. Jean toys with the flame, fluttering it between unfeeling fingers, and wishing that they would notice the way it dances. But they always take it with them when they leave, and he remains in the lightless attic, waiting for sunrise to bring a new day.   
  
\--  
  
Marco is six years old when he first spots Jean. He climbs the attic stairs, candle in one hand and a stuffed bear in the other, unafraid even when he catches Jean mid-stride, pacing the attic floor. He just stares, and Jean is so startled that Marco's eyes fall solidly on him that he just sits, and lets the child approach him.   
  
Their first exchange is hesitant - tentative - and Jean feels like crying when the little freckled boy stutters a response to his greetings. Marco is brave - perhaps too much so - and wonders aloud how Jean could be a ghost, when ghosts are supposed to be frightening. It's the first time Jean has ever thought of himself in the context of what he is now - a  _ghost_  - and he feels the sting of tears that will never fall. He snaps at the boy, more hurt by the truth of his situation than the child's words. His threat to haunt him carries no weight, though; he wouldn't know how to start, even if he really wanted to. But rather than cower, Marco offers to share his teddy bear, and Jean can't find it in his heart to send him away.   
  
With no sisters or brothers, Marco is lonely in the sprawling house, and despite his squeaky chattering, he helps Jean  _not_  to be. They become friends, and Jean watches him grow up. And he grows attached...   
  
\--  
  
Marco is seventeen - Jean's age, just for a while - when he admits that he's fallen in love with Jean, and Jean disappears for a week, attempting to talk himself out of saying it in return.   
  
Marco's mortality scares him, even more than his own lack thereof. With every cut and scrape Marco gets, Jean winces at the thought of such a bright flame of life being snuffed out. He  _knows_  that it can happen, knows how little it takes. Denying that it frightens him is as impossible as denying the reason - Marco isn't the only one in love. When Jean finally confesses, he feels more weightless than ever.

Nighttime whispers and muffled laughs become quiet kisses as Jean learns to touch - to  _feel._  He hasn't had a beating heart for years, but he feels it swell and race, all the same. Marco doesn't stay seventeen for long, but with every day that passes he grows into a more handsome man. He could have his choice of wives - or lovers - but he is content returning home to Jean, year after year. Eventually, he even manages to talk Jean out of trying to change his mind.

\--  
  
Their shared laughter sets deep lines on Marco's faces as he ages, but his eyes never lose their warm sparkle, even as his body begins to fail. He grows weak, but his love for Jean does not. Jean is beside him all the while, a hand to hold as a candle burns down to its end. And he is there when it finally does.   
  
\--  
  
Jean is still seventeen when - after eighty nine years - Marco's candle goes out.   
  
The room goes dark, and in the still silence, Jean wonders if Marco has left him behind, gone to some perfect and beautiful place that he truly deserves. But the hand that reaches up to hold his after a few lonely moments doesn't wear the marks of age that it did before. Instead, the Marco that sits up from the bed leaves mortality behind him; he doesn't look a day over seventeen, not a minute past the prime at which the two of them fell in love. His smile is just as beautiful as ever, and Jean pulls him into the air and into his arms.   
  
That is the way that they spend the rest of eternity - together - two boys, too in love to worry about things as fleeting as life and death.


End file.
